McFly Shuffle
by MyStateOfMind
Summary: A collection of Smitchie one-shots, based on songs by the amazing band McFly.
1. The Heart Never Lies

_**Title: **__McFly Shuffle_

_**Summary: **__A collection of Smitchie (possibly Naitlyn every so often) one-shots, based on songs by the amazing band McFly._

_**Author's Note: **__Okay, so it's an obsession. Both writing for Camp Rock and listening to McFly (THEIR CONCERT WAS SO AMAZING I HAVE LOST MY VOICE AND I LOVE THEM EVEN MORE NOW AND AHHHH okay stopping now). So, on a whim, I started writing this and decided to, whenever I'm stuck for ideas with Believe In Me or am struck with an idea, write a short one-shot based on the awesome songs that they write. I have some ideas already, so I'm way excited for this. Probably more so than I should be, but I honestly don't care. Here goes. This one is based upon one of my favourites: The Heart Never Lies. You can YouTube it, or if you're willing to wait, I'll upload all of the songs that I use in this collection and you can download them from my profile. I'm open to ideas from you guys too – if you know a song and have an inkling of an idea that you'd like to see me write and expand, just lemme know. None of these will be connected, by the way. All individual stories. And I'll shut up now, so you can read._

_**Disclaimer: **__Mkay, if I owned Camp Rock, I'd be hanging out with the Jonas Brothers right about now. And if I owned McFly's songs, I'd be hanging out with them. If I owned both, it'd be a party. But I don't. So no party. Boo._

_**Music: **__The Heart Never Lies – McFly_

**Some people laugh, some people cry**

**Some people live, some people die**

**Some people run, right into the fire**

**Some people hide their every desire**

**But we are the lovers**

**If you don't believe me**

**Then just look into my eyes**

**'cause the heart never lies**

They had fun times. They laughed a lot, sometimes at things that other people didn't even understand. They just laughed. Laughing for the sake of laughing was what they did. What was life without a little smiling? Who cared if people thought they were odd, or strange? Some people laugh and they have fun. If nobody ever laughed or had fun, where would the world be? Who knows? They didn't really want to find out though. Laugh. Laugh out loud.

They had sad times too. When he went away on tour and she would have to go through that goodbye phase that she hated. The days leading up to the goodbye, where there was this pressing weight – the knowledge that the hours they had left were decreasing by the second. The actual goodbye, where she'd try to absorb as much of him as possible. And the days after, until she was back in his arms. She cried. He cried (though he'd deny it to most people). Some people cried and they have bad days. But if that didn't happen, how would we ever appreciate the happier times in life?

Right now was one of those sad times. But, like always, they were making it as good as it could possibly be. They had to. Make the best out of a bad situation. That was what they were good at now.

"I'm going to miss you," she muttered into his chest as he hugged her close. Never let go, she thought to herself, as she always did. But of course, he had to let go. He always did let go, as much as he didn't want to. If he'd had his way, she would be by his side, every step of the way. But that would be selfish of him. Right now, she had a life here. She couldn't up and leave it. Maybe next year. Maybe the year after... but not right now.

He smiled softly, as he always did when these five words slipped from her lips. It was routine. He knew they were coming, he knew she would say them. But he loved that. He loved that he knew her and that he knew that when he heard those words, five very different ones would follow in a few months, when he next saw her. Like always. And, continuing with their usual routine, he replied with his own, well rehearsed, four words."I'll miss you more."

"Not possible," she whispered, still audible. "Not possible at all, Shane Grey."

Stepping back so that her face was lifted from it's burial place in his t-shirt, he put a single finger under her chin and tilted her face up towards him. God, he loved her. How he managed to go two months every year without seeing her was beyond him. How she went two months every year without deciding that she didn't want to live like that and moved on was also beyond him. "I beg to differ, Mitchie Torres. You have no idea how much I'll miss you."

"How much will you miss me?" she asked, even though she knew the answer. It was the same answer every time. But she wasn't being vain, or giving herself an ego boost. She was following the routine. Familiarity. If they followed this routine every time, they knew that they'd be following the homecoming routine that would be occurring in a few months. That was how it went.

"So much that the world will spin considerably slower until I see you again. And so much that I'll call you every night, even if it's late and I haven't slept. I'll miss you so much that my heart will literally hurt until I see you again. I'll miss you that much, Mitchie. I'll miss you more than I'd miss the sun if it burnt out tomorrow."

She smiled, weakly against the tears that were still sparkling in her eyes. "I love you."

"How much do you love me, Mitch?" Shane asked, reaching a thumb out to wipe away a tear before it spilled over the corner of her eye and down her cheek. He didn't want to see her cry.

"I love you more than anything in the entire world. I love you so much that when you're away I feel like a part of me is gone too. But I love you so much that I know that when you get back, it's like my whole world lights up and I'm more than whole. You're my favorite person in the world, Shane, and if the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd be fine as long as you were there with me."

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to hers. It was getting closer to that time. They always timed their goodbyes to the tee. Exact. It was as though everything in the world co-operated to ensure that the timing for Mitchie and Shane's goodbye was perfect every time. Nate and Caitlyn were locked in their final embrace for two months, Jason and Ella were standing awkwardly facing each other as they both wished that the other would make the first move and the cases were just finishing being loaded on the bus. It was time.

"If the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd get to you."

"If the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd get to _you_." She replied, emphasis on the last word. They'd find each other. Even though the sun hadn't burnt out in the last four years that they'd been saying these exact words to each other – and it most likely wouldn't – it was the familiarity thing again. _If _it did, they had their plan.

Shane smiled, inching his lips closer to hers, but leaving just enough space to utter his last few words. "I'll meet you halfway?"

"I'll be there," she whispered, before closing the gap in between their faces, connecting their lips. They'd shared many kisses before – of course they had – but it was amazing how different these goodbye kisses could feel. Like the first kiss. Like the last kiss. Like the most amazing kiss you could ever experience, and then adding an amazing factor of twenty onto that.

Fifteen seconds exactly passed, her brain dizzy with the intoxication of the kiss, before he pulled away. It was time. "I love you."

"Really?" Mitchie's voice shook, as it always did. She was always slightly blown away by the sincerity of his tone and how weird it was; to think that Shane Grey was in love with _her_.

He nodded. "You don't believe me?"

She shook her head – she did believe him. He said it enough. She knew he loved her. "I can see it in your eyes. Can you see it in mine?"

"Crystal clear, babe. Crystal clear."

He had to go. Step away. Go to the bus. And it always killed him to do it, and he always spent the first night on the bus thinking about all the things he wished he'd said in the goodbye process. Yet, the next year, he'd just say the same thing. That was how it went.

She knew he had to go too, and it was taking every inch of her to keep the tears from cascading down her face like she'd turned into the Niagara Falls. But they never said goodbye. Not outright. It was so final. So she resorted to the way she always did. "Talk to you later, Mr. Grey?"

His smile was dazzling. "Not if I talk to you first, Ms. Torres."

And with that, he was on the bus, closely followed by Nate and Jason. And then the doors were closing, and all three of the girls left behind were comforting each other; telling each other that it was going to be okay. That they'd make it through. They always did. Even if the sun burnt out, they always would.

**Another year over, and we're still together**

**It's not always easy, but I'm here forever**

**We are the lovers**

**I know you believe me**

**When you look into my eyes**

**'cause the heart never lies**

Sad times and happy times took place in those two months. Mostly sad. The ice cream parties at one of the three girls' apartment were into the double digits, the midnight phone conversations about nothing that were purely to feel closer to each other were uncountable and the number of times Mitchie Torres had thought about him was almost equal to the number of seconds that had passed. It wasn't easy, but it worked. They made it work when he was away.

But when he was back, everything was good. And today was the day that he was returning from his two month tour, back to the apartment they both shared just outside the college that Mitchie attended. Back home. And unlike the routine of the previous four years, Shane had a new plan for this one. He'd been considering it for a while, but it had become obvious from the ache that he'd experienced thanks to being away from her that sooner was always better than later. Sooner was now. What better time than the present?

Like always, she was waiting for him, in the park that was halfway between where the bus parked and their apartment. None of the others understood why she didn't come to meet them at the bus; only she and Shane shared that connection.

_I'll meet you halfway?_

_I'll be there._

The sun was still high in the sky, in no danger of burning out any time soon. But that didn't matter. They had their plan. And they'd made it through another tour. They'd made it through another tour and were still together. Still happy. Still sitting on that same park bench, looking for the first sight of the straight black hair and the typical skinny jeans. Still dodging through the park, ignoring the gazes of awe and looking for that long brown hair and those sparkling eyes. Still seeing each other at the exact same time, as though a magnet had been suddenly turned on and their eyes were drawn to each other.

"Another year over?" She stood up, taking her steps over to where they always stood. Three steps away from the bench. About ten steps from the huge oak tree that could be seen from outside the gates of the park. Familiar.

Shane nodded, a smile breaking over his face. The type of smile that only thinking about her, or talking to her, or just _being _with her could bring out of him. "That's it for another year."

"Europe satisfied?" she asked, knowing that they always were.

Another nod. "They have had two months of us. They can't ask for more than that."

Mitchie grinned. She hadn't even made contact with him yet – no touch, no kiss, no hug – but she already felt as though she was back in his arms. Because she could be. There was no ocean stopping her this time. "Well... they can. But they won't get anymore. It's my turn."

It was her turn.

Shane took a breath, about to break the routine. Up until then it had been normal. The exact same conversation that they always had when they were in this position. Getting back to how they were. Shane back. But he was going to break it, just because it was time to break it. Sure, familiarity could be best – you knew what to expect and were comforted by the sameness of a situation – but sometimes, something new could be just as good. If not, better. He hoped it would be better.

"Mitch..."

That wasn't what she'd expected. She'd been waiting for him to agree and whisk them off to the cafe that they always visited, where they'd share a drink and talk about what they'd been missing. Her face clouded with confusion, her nose wrinkling and her eyebrows getting closer together. But she didn't speak. Maybe it was curiosity, to see where this was going. Maybe it was waiting for her cue.

"Mitchie... I love you. And this tour nearly killed me. The other ones were bad, but this one was terrible. I thought about you every second. Every minute of every day was consumed with thoughts of you. I don't know what had changed, but something had, and I realized that I don't know how much longer I can do this. How much longer I can go on tour, away from you for months on end and my only way of communicating with you is on the phone. Or on a computer. That doesn't mean I'm going to give it all up though," he added this last part because he knew she'd protest at this. One thing that Mitchie Torres had always been adamant about was that he could not give up his career for her. He could give it up because he wanted to, or because it was getting too much, but not because of her. Not solely because of her. "It means that I want to be sure that I can come home and have you here. As mine. Only mine. I love you more than anything in the entire world. I love you so much that when you're away I feel like a part of me is gone too. But I love you so much that I know that when you get back, it's like my whole world lights up and I'm more than whole. You're my favorite person in the world, Mitch, and if the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd be fine as long as you were there with me. Which brings me to..."

She knew. As soon as he stole her speech, the little voice in her head screamed it at her. But being the person that she was, she didn't want to look like an idiot by guessing early and being wrong. Nor did she want to ruin the moment that she would inevitably look back on as one of the most romantic moments of her entire life. However, even though she had an idea of what was about to happen, it didn't stop her heart from thudding at 100 miles per hour in her chest or her eyes filling up as she watched Shane Grey – her boyfriend since the age of seventeen – get down on one knee in front of her, probably dirtying the knees of his grey skinny jeans. It didn't stop her gasping as he pulled a single ring from his pocket; no box, just a simple silver band with three tiny diamonds locked into it. The ring was so Mitchie. So simple, yet so beautiful.

"Mitch. Will you marry me?"

Every nerve in his body was screaming at her to say yes. Pleading her to say yes. This was what he wanted. He'd have given up everything in the world for her – if she wanted to, they could live in a cave in the Amazon rainforest and have no straighteners, no TV and no supermarkets. Obviously he kind of hoped she didn't want that, but if she did, he'd do it. In a heartbeat. She had to want to marry him. How many times had she said she loved him? Logic said that she'd say yes. Paranoia said that she'd laugh at him. Guess which one won.

Mitchie hadn't actually frozen, contrary to what it may have looked like. Her mind was racing, trying to think of some way to reply. Some way to be just as romantic – just as _amazing –_ as what her boyfriend had just been. But she couldn't think of anything. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. But every girl who was proposed to said either 'yes' or 'no'. And since when had Mitchie Torres wanted to be like every other girl?

She fell down onto her knees so that she was on the same level as Shane; so that she could look him in the eyes without looking down on him. Her mind was telling her that it knew what she should say, but she didn't actually know what it was yet. What words would leave her lips? How odd it was, to feel reassured about what you're about to say, but not quite know what it is.

Shane stared back at her, his heart in his mouth. Why hadn't she answered yet? What was going on?

"Shane..." she said, her voice low. "Shane. If the sun burnt out tomorrow..."

Unrehearsed. Raw.

"If the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd find a way to marry you."

**And we are the lovers**

**I know you believe me**

**When you look into my eyes**

**'cause the heart never lies**

**Because the heart never lies**

"If the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd get to you."

A year had passed. So much had changed, yet in these moments it felt like no time had passed at all. They remembered the last time they uttered the words like they had been yesterday.

"If the sun burnt out tomorrow, I'd get to _you_."

So far, the sun was still very much burning in the sky. Not burned out yet. There was a chance though. Always a chance.

"I'll meet you halfway?"

"I'll be there."

Kiss. Raw, passionate, loving. Last kiss for a few weeks. Not as long as before, but weeks was still a while. Hours were long enough to miss someone. Weeks could be just as bad.

"I love you."

"Really?" As if she didn't know this by now.

He nodded. "You don't believe me?"

"I can see it in your eyes. Can you see it in mine?"

He didn't need to see it in her eyes. He heard it every morning. He felt it when she kissed him. It didn't need to be said. But even when it doesn't have to be said, we say it anyway. Familiarity. "Crystal clear, babe. Crystal clear."

Caitlyn and Nate were saying goodbye with their own kiss, making up their lines as they went along. This year, Jason and Ella were saying goodbye as a couple, seeing as Jason had finally admitted to being in love with her. Goodbye was all around.

But they never said goodbye. Not outright. It was so final. So she resorted to the way she always did. "Talk to you later, Mr. Grey?"

His smile was dazzling. "Not if I talk to you first, Mrs. Grey."

We know what comes next. But we also know that they'd make it through. They always did. And even if the sun burnt out, they always would.


	2. All About You

_**Title: **__McFly Shuffle_

_**Summary: **__A collection of Smitchie (possibly Naitlyn every so often) one-shots, based on songs by the amazing band McFly._

_**Author's Note: **__Back with another one! This song is probably my absolute favourite by the band, but it changes on a daily basis, so I don't know. Anyway, the song will be up to download in my profile momentarily – you can download All About You and The Heart Never Lies from there. And I hope you like it! And this one is dedicated to __Enigmaforum__ because she's been reviewing ever since the start and I love reading each and every one of her reviews. Thank you, and though I'm sure everyone has, if you haven't read her stories, go do it! Now! Well... read this first. And then go do it!_

_**Disclaimer: **__Mkay, if I owned Camp Rock, I'd be hanging out with the Jonas Brothers right about now. And if I owned McFly's songs, I'd be hanging out with them. If I owned both, it'd be a party. But I don't. So no party. Boo._

_**Music: **__All About You – McFly_

**Yesterday you asked me something I thought you knew**

**So I told you with a smile, it's all about you**

I knew something was wrong as soon as I walked in the door. Silence was spread across the apartment, which was unusual. When I got home I was usually greeted with music of some sort, be it from a CD, on a TV show or something that Mitchie had written herself. Silence was out of the ordinary. Which was the first sign that not all was as it should be.

Tossing my keys on the table by the door, I didn't even bother kicking off my Converse shoes before walking through the rooms to try and find my fiancée. Who cared about the floors? Something might be wrong.

I'd met Mitchie at Camp Rock, something that everybody knew. We'd gone our separate ways for an entire year – an idea that came from both of us – and then met up again the next year at camp. And it was then that we realized that we couldn't pretend that we didn't like each other. That we couldn't pretend that we didn't want to be with each other. And so... we were. The press loved it, even more so when last month, when Mitchie and I had been together for three years, I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She'd said yes, after some tears (of joy, she reassured me a million times afterwards) and so here we were. Sharing a New York apartment, where she was able to travel to NYU on a daily basis, and I was in a good location for the studio. It was perfect.

Or as perfect as dating a rockstar could be. It wasn't easy for her, I knew that. When people began to spread rumors about me and someone else (something that would never, ever happen, ever) or they spread rumors about her and someone else (something that both Mitchie and Nate, whom she was frequently paired up with, insisted would never, ever occur and I believed them 100 percent). Sometimes I saw her brave face crack and it get her down. Which I hated. She was Mitchie – my Mitchie – and I just wanted her to be happy all the time. And okay, that didn't happen to anybody. But people can hope, can't they?

The search for Mitchie didn't take too long. I found her in our bedroom, sitting with her laptop on her knee, a blank expression on her face as she scanned whatever was on the web page. Admiring her for a few seconds, I observed the way her eyes flickered along the lines of words that were written on the screen. I watched how her hair hung over her eyes slightly, shining in the light of the bedroom. I noticed the little flash of the musical note tattoo that she'd gotten as a part of a dare on her wrist when she moved it to click. I saw all of this in seconds, and while I'd seen them before, they were just as beautiful and intriguing as when I first saw them.

"What's the matter?" I asked, making my presence known.

She hadn't seen me before then, and my voice obviously made her jump. Her gaze flickered over to me and a weak smile crossed her features as she got up, discarding the laptop on the bed that she'd been sitting on, and came over to greet me with a kiss. That was the second sign that all was not as it should be. Sure, I was greeted with a kiss on most days, but this one was different. It wasn't a 'welcome home' kiss. It was an 'I'm glad you're back' kiss. Like she needed me. And whenever she needed me, I always had to help. It was like an addiction.

Pulling her over to the bed, I repeated the question that I'd previously asked and not received an answer about. "What's the matter, Mitch?"

Mitchie sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing. Nothing, it's stupid. Nothing."

Funny, isn't it, that when someone says that nothing is wrong, you can almost instantly tell that something is wrong. Something was wrong. Maybe I just knew Mitchie too well, but she wasn't right. And I had a feeling that the answer to my question may be on that laptop screen.

She noticed what I was going to do before I did it though, snatching the computer away from my grasp and shutting it, obscuring the screen from my view. So it _was_ something on there. Snaking my hand around her to try and get to the laptop, she was too quick and pulled it away from my outstretched fingers once more.

"It's nothing, Shane. I'm just... I'm fine. How was work? The new album going well?" A fake smile pasted itself across her face – I knew her well enough to know when her smiles were genuine and when they were like this one was now – and she made a futile attempt to change the subject. Yeah, right. Like I'd let her get away with that.

"The new album is going great," I said, walking over to one of the many guitars that we had littered around the apartment (there was just about one in every room, except in the music room... where there were three) and picking it up. "Here, let me play you a song that we were writing. It goes a little something like: _Mitchie, tell me what's wrong because I can tell that you're not right. Let me into what's upsetting you and I'll hold you tight, make it alright._" My improvisational skills weren't great, but she laughed nonetheless, rolling her eyes at me.

"I'm fine, Shane."

That was the third sign that something wasn't right – as if I needed anymore signs. Mitchie rarely let anything get to her so badly that she couldn't even tell me about it. Even after I'd made up a random song to try and get her to cave.

Still holding the guitar, I sat back down on the bed next to her, my eyebrows raised. I didn't believe her for a second. "Funny. You say you're fine, but that isn't what I'm hearing."

"Oh, really?" She asked, raising her eyebrows right back. "And what are you hearing, Mr. Grey? If it's so different from what I'm saying?"

I shrugged, picking out a random melody on the strings of the acoustic guitar I had in my hands. "I can hear your tone of voice, suggesting that you're not as fine as you might claim to be. I can hear the lack of music when I walk into the house, which almost never happens. I can hear you being unnecessarily stubborn. C'mon Mitchie. Something's the matter. I just want to help."

She sighed, lying back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Resistance was obviously stupid where I was concerned, did she not know this by now? But I didn't want to push her to tell me (okay, so I did, but I was managing to stop myself) and so I just watched her lie there, unmoving, while I continued to pick out the melody. It sounded quite good. Weird, how you can spend hours trying to write a song and then when you're not even trying, you get something good in seconds. Maybe I should just stop trying to write songs and let them come to me at random moments.

"Do you love me?"

My finger slipped off the fret board, making a thudding sound that wasn't how I'd anticipated ending that song. Though I hadn't been anticipating that question to come out of her mouth either. Looking over at her – though she was still staring at the ceiling, as though she hadn't just asked a question that I was convinced she already knew the answer to – I saw that she was serious. She wanted, needed, me to answer it.

I put down the guitar, leaning it on the side of the bed and lay back beside her, turning on my side so that I could examine her face. Her eyes, that were fixed on a random spot above. Her lips, that were non-moving now that she'd asked the question that had been on her mind. Her chest, that was moving up and down with every slow breath that she took as she waited for me to answer.

Reaching out and entwining my hand with hers, I locked my gaze onto her eyes, even if they weren't looking back at me. "Mitchie. It's all about you. I'm all about you."

The spot on the ceiling wasn't so interesting anymore, and she slowly turned her head to look into my eyes. "Really? Like... really, really?"

I couldn't help but smile at her. She was so amazingly beautiful and so amazingly modest. How could she not see how crazy I was about her? Most of the world could see how crazy I was about her? "Of course. Yes. Really. Mitchie, I love you more than I can put into words. God knows, I've tried. To put into songs and I've written more songs about you than I can count. But none of them can accurately represent how I feel about you, because I would do anything for you. Anything you asked, I'd make sure it came true. I love you."

Mitchie's eyes were reassured by this; I could see the change in emotion from worry to relief. But her face remained blank as she pushed herself up and looked down at me from her almost sitting position. "But why? I mean... I'm not... I'm just... me."

Sitting up too, I squeezed her hand in mine. "And just you is exactly who I want. Are you kidding me? People I meet are mostly crazy. They obsess over how they look and how they can be like the 'it' girl in Hollywood. They aren't real. I was one of those people. And then I met you and you turned me back into the person that I never wanted to not be. You made me smile for real again. You turned my world upside down, Mitchie and I never want it to turn the right way up again. So you might not be famous, or whatever else you feel inadequate for not being, but that doesn't matter to me. I love you. And if you ever came to your senses and realized that you could do so much better than me, I have no idea what I'd do."

"I'd never leave you," she whispered. "I could never leave you."

I grinned at her, pulling her back down to lie beside me. "Good. Because I could never leave you either. At least we're both on the same page."

She smiled, her gaze back on the ceiling as she pondered this new information.

Glancing over at the shut laptop, I looked back at Mitchie. "What brought this on?"

"I..." she sighed, rolling over to face me before extending an arm and pulling the laptop closer to her. Then she lifted the screen and faced it toward me. When it loaded up, I saw the familiar layout of the Connect 3 fanboards, and my gaze fixed on the title: MITCHEY IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR SHANE, WHO AGREES? There were over 100 replies.

My first impression was that the person posting this was obviously an idiot, because they didn't even know how to spell her name. I mean, duh, if you're going to badmouth someone at least learn the correct spelling. My second was that this was obviously some deluded teenager, who thought she had half a chance with me, and as much as I didn't want to rain on her parade (end sarcasm now) she didn't. And my third was that the 100 replies could not all be of people who hated Mitchie. She'd not done anything worthy of hating. Some of our fans had to have common sense, didn't they?

"Mitchie... you can't pay attention to this. You can't listen to people like this." I said, not really knowing how else to put it. How can you tell someone to ignore the people in the world who are fuelling rumors and lies about her? It's near impossible. Human curiosity compels us to find out what's others think of us. And unfortunately for Mitchie, she'd found the small sector of society that hated her. For no good reason.

She shrugged. "I just... sometimes I think they have a point. I'm not good enough for you. You're... amazing. And then I look at the pictures of me and you out together, or at a premiere and I just... I look so plain."

I shook my head, pulling her up and over into the ensuite bathroom, standing her in front of the mirror while I stood behind her. Her eyes closed, as though she didn't want to look, but I slowly coaxed her to open them.

"Look. This is the Mitchie I see. With beautiful auburn hair that is way too soft and I have no idea how she gets it that soft because people have been trying for years and she seems to have just managed it. With sparkling brown eyes that light up my world when she laughs or grins in my direction and that I love looking into whenever I get the opportunity. With a cute little button nose that she absolutely hates, but I cannot see why because it's perfect. With lips that, honestly, if they never touched mine again I think I'd die. With one of those contagious smiles that when people see it, they just have to smile right along with her, even if they don't know what they're smiling at. And that's just her face. Plain is not a problem with you, Mitchie. Because if you're plain, then I'm in love with plain. And that's just the way it goes."

She turned away from the mirror, facing me. "God, Shane. I love you." Linking her arms around my neck, she crashed her lips into mine. That was the first sign that everything was going to be okay and that she wouldn't believe this utter crap again.

Later that night, after we'd kissed some more and watched some old episodes of _Friends_ (second sign that everything was going to be okay; Mitchie laughed just like she always did) while we waited for the pizza that we ordered to turn up, I decided to take another look at the website. It had been bugging me – did everyone really think that about Mitchie? Not that it was going to make me love her any less, or make me change my mind about marrying her, but I wanted to know how bad it was. I wanted to know, because if it was that bad... well I could give it up. I could stop it all. And that wouldn't be the most terrible thing in the world.

"Pizza," she announced when the knock at the door came, and I watched as my fiancee heaved herself off the couch and made her way over to the front door. While her back was towards me, I opened up her laptop once more, which was still on the same page, and scrolled down. Down, down, past comments from ignorant people who couldn't type saying that they LMAO AGREED. Down. Down. Until I reached one.

_Oh my god. Seriously? Are you kidding me? MITCHIE (check the spelling) is perfect for Shane and if you are stupid enough to think that you actually have a chance with him, then you don't deserve to be let out of your house. She's not one of those superficial people who pretend to be someone they're not, and she and Shane obviously love each other a lot. Some fan you are; you can't even be happy for him. It's not all about you, you know. And if Shane or Mitchie ever read this, I hope that they realize that not all Connect 3 fans are as ignorant as you. Some of us actually respect the guys and wish them all the best in the future. It's a shame that you obviously aren't one of those people. Why don't you get a clue and support Mitchie and Shane? _

_-Enigma_

I smiled, reading the words over again and letting them sink in. Restoring my faith in my fans and people in the world in general. It's awesome how one little thing can do that. No text talk, coherent sentences... at least someone had more than one brain cell on that site.

"Thank you so much." Mitchie's voice and the closing of the front door floated into the room, and I quickly closed the laptop – making sure to keep it on the same page, so that when she next went on it she saw that not everyone had a severe lack of common sense and not everyone was totally rude – putting it back where I found it and turning my attention back to the TV just in time for her to walk in, balancing the food in one hand. "What'd I miss?" she asked, putting the boxes down on the table in front of us and settling back into the place she'd vacated.

I looked at her and smiled, shrugging as I did so. "Not much. Not much at all."

She grinned back, leaning in and kissing me quickly before pulling the pizza toward her and taking herself a big slice. "Ugh, I'm never going to fit into the dress that I bought for that charity thing."

"Do you want me to tell you how much I care about that?" I asked, taking some pizza for myself and totally talking with my mouth full. Yeah, so I'd been told not to do that enough times. But sometimes you just couldn't help it; once you'd finished chewing the moment was gone.

Mitchie laughed, rolling her eyes as she swallowed her own mouthful. "I'm guessing not much at all?"

"You'd guess right," I said, grinning as she laughed.

Taking a moment to think about this, she tilted her head to one side before shrugging. "Eh, I'm okay with that. As long as you'll still love me whether I'm stick thin or as big as a house."

That was the third sign that everything was going to be okay – the fact that the joking tone was evident in her voice as she said this. But just to be sure, I was serious with my reply.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mitch? It's all about you, babe."

**And I would answer all your wishes**

**If you ask me to**

**But if you deny me one of your kisses**

**Don't know what I'd do**

**So hold me close and say three words like you used to do**

**Dancing on the kitchen tiles**

**Yeah, you make my life worthwhile**

**So I told you with a smile**

**It's all about you...**


	3. Do Ya

_**Title: **__McFly Shuffle_

_**Summary: **__A collection of Smitchie (possibly Naitlyn every so often) one-shots, based on songs by the amazing band McFly._

_**Author's Note: **__So... moment of inspiration. It took me hardly any time to write this and I'm not convinced it's amazing, but I like the concept. I might re-write it if I think of a better way to end it, but for now..._

_**Disclaimer: **__Haven't we been through this already? Camp Rock and McFly are not owned by me, I promise. Otherwise I'd definitely share._

_**Music: **__Do Ya – McFly_

**Making a list of things that I miss whenever we're far apart,**

**The way that you kiss, the taste of your lips, **

**I'm telling you from the heart**

**To: **Mitchie Torres

**From: **Shane Grey

**Subject: **are you ready for this monster of an email?

My lovely, amazing, beautiful, wonderful, fantastic, supercalifragalisticexpialidocious girlfriend Mitchie,

So... I've been banished to my room. Want to know my crime? I talked too much about you, apparently. When really, all I've been doing is say how much I miss you. Which is really just stating my thoughts. And what sort of friends banish their friend to their room for merely saying what is on their minds? Nate and Jason, obviously. Remind me to find some new friends when I get off this tour, because I am apparently in need of an upgrade.

But I was banished to my room and brought my laptop with me and decided that there was only one thing I could do. If I can't talk to Nate and Jason about how much I miss you, then I'll talk to you about how much I miss you. And you may actually appreciate it, unlike the lamers that call themselves my best friends. I mean jeez, I listen to Nate rabbit on about Caitlyn enough. And okay, I may be a little bit worse than him... but that's only because I talk more. And he prefers to opt for the suffering in silence thing. If he talked as much as I did, I'd be hearing about Caitlyn a lot too so really, it's only fair. And Jason... well, Jason talks about everyone. And he has this annoying thing of not being afraid to look desperate by calling Ella whenever he misses her – and I mean _whenever –_ so he doesn't talk to us about missing her, he just calls her. Whereas me and Nate – real men who suck it up when they miss their girlfriends – resort to... well... yeah. Whatever.

This email is going to be really long, by the way. Because – are you ready for this? - I am about to list every single thing I miss about you. And there are a lot of things I miss about you, Torres, so be prepared. And don't even think about just scrolling down past the numbered points and reading from there on, because I will know if you have. I'm going to add little bits into some of them that I'll ask you about next time you call and you'll have to answer and so you'll have to have read this whole thing. I'm not risking repetitive strain injury from all this typing, just so that you can skip all of my heartfelt fluffy stuff. This email could ruin my reputation, you know. I hope you appreciate it. And listing everything I miss about you will probably just make me miss you more and I'll want to call you more than I do right now, but you're in school and the last time I made that mistake I had the fortune to have a conversation with your lovely English teacher who was really creepy by the way. So as much as I'd love a repeat of _that _incident... no.

Missing you. Okay. Get ready for a long ass list, Miss Torres. You'd better read it all, I swear because I am just about to become the cheesiest, most clichéd person in the entire world. You will not believe that it is your boyfriend typing this out. But it's me, and I mean it, okay? Okay.

1. So, the number one thing that I miss about you is... your smile. This was the first thing that popped into my head, by the way. I don't actually rank the things I miss. I'm more concerned about the fact that I miss you like crazy than what order I miss them in, because that makes more sense really. But yeah, your smile. It's the first thing that I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. Just the way that your face lights up and your eyes sparkle and you look so damn happy whenever you smile means that whenever I go for a few hours without seeing it, I get major withdrawal symptoms. The way that I feel the need to smile right along with you and always, always want to be the one making you smile. I mean... not the only person making you smile, obviously. I'm not saying I'd prefer it if you were Little Miss Emo around absolutely everyone else, because that would suck. But I want to be the guy making you smile when I say that I love you. I want to be the only guy making you smile because he says that he loves you. The number one thing I miss about you is your smile, because it makes me smile and lights up my entire world, even when everything else is crap. Gives me total faith in everything again. It's one of the first things I noticed about you, too. Well... no, the first thing I noticed about you was that you were covered in flour. And that kinda distracted me for the rest of THAT meeting, so I guess I'm counting it from when I saw you in class after that. Even though I didn't know you were the same person at that moment in time, so technically it was the first thing I noticed about you... okay. I'm confused. Next one? I think so.

2. The next thing I miss most about you, Mitchie, is kissing you. Yeah, if I were talking to Nate and Jason, this would be about the time that they tell me to "SHUT UP!!!" or start singing that Katy Perry song REALLY loudly. You know, that I Kissed A Girl one? Uh-huh. But I can't help it. I mean, two months away from you is a long time. And you're my girlfriend and I love you and two months without kissing you is majorly annoying for me. I mean, I don't go as far as kissing a picture of you or anything... I just miss it. And I miss your random, kinda-frustrating-but-funny-at-the-same-time moments when I'm kissing you and you pull away to tell me something completely off topic. Like that time you saw a yellow car drive by and just HAD to stop kissing me so that you could yell "yellow car!". That was... weird. But I miss it. I miss kissing you, Mitch. Nobody as hooked on someone as I am should have to go two months without kissing their girlfriend. It should be made against the law or something. I'll have the president make it the first thing on his itinerary when he's next going over laws or whatever, yes? Just so that I have an excuse to drag you on tour with me and taste your lips whenever I want to. I mean, wouldn't want to be breaking the law here, would we? No. That'd be bad.

3. Third thing I miss about you is your uncanny ability to know exactly when I'm being an egotistical jerk. Which, I'll admit, isn't often anymore thanks to you. But when I'm showing even the slightest signs of ego or jerk or both because hey, I can't be perfect, you always, _always _put me straight within seconds. Usually by hitting me. Which I am sure counts as child abuse, but I love you too much to report it. Plus, I'm not really a child anymore either so I fail on both counts. And you don't really hit all that hard anyway, just for the record. It doesn't even make a mark. It might be a weird thing to miss, but honestly Mitchie, whenever I say something that shows signs of the Shane Grey I used to be out here, I turn around and look for you as though I'm expecting you to be there, arm raised and ready to punch me or whatever. You'd have hit me five times already in this email if you were here, I just know it. But ask Nate – I do look over my shoulder whenever I do it. He's taken to calling me crazy just because of it, which is not nice at all but what can I do? I've already put him on eBay but nobody is bidding for him. I may be stuck with Nate as a friend forever. Well... I say friend but I mean BANE OF MY EXISTANCE. Or... not. Nate's cool, we both know this. I'll just never admit it to him because I'm too cool for that. AND SEE, YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN HERE TO HIT ME RIGHT THERE. BUT YOU WEREN'T. GOD, I MISS YOU.

4. Nombre quatre (that is French, right? Am I speaking French or did I just make those words up?): your voice. And that includes when you speak and especially when you sing. I know, I hear your voice on the phone every night when I call, but I will insist that it is not the same as hearing it when you're next to me. It just isn't. Because when you're next to me it's loud and clear, and okay, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're next to me, but you just seem closer. Wow, so that made no sense. Duh you're closer, you're freakin' next to me! But then again, probably nothing that I've said has made sense at all so far, so why break the trend? Yes, I miss your voice. Just hearing you speak and sing and... I don't know what else you can do with your voice that I can mention but if there is anything, then I miss that too.

5. I miss... I miss you interrupting me when I'm in the middle of writing a song. I miss being in a really grouchy mood because nothing is going right and then having you come in and snake your arms around my back and help write the song and work out everything that's going wrong. I miss that. Here, there's just Nate to help me and – no offense to Nate, obviously, I'm sure that Caitlyn loves him – I do not want him coming into my room on the bus (or in my house or wherever I happen to be) and snaking his arms around my back to help me write a song. No thank you. Same goes for Jason. So, if you don't mind, I'll continue snapping at them to leave me the hell alone when I'm stuck with writing and nothing is going right and I'm having an inner tantrum, and stick to missing you and how you always come in and make everything make more sense with your back snaking and your kissing me (which I also miss, see above if you haven't already WHICH YOU SHOULD HAVE MITCHIE).

6. What else do I miss? See, I'm having one of those major cases of when you're not writing it down, you can remember A MILLION THINGS and then when you're actually put under the pressure of making a list, you just... forget. Wiped out of your head. Gone. Kaput. Bye-bye. I misssssssss you... I miss the way that you watch me in a show. I miss looking over to the wing area (or whatever it's called, I'm not sure... you know where I mean) and seeing you standing there, singing along and if it's a fast song doing that crazy little dance that you always do that makes me laugh. Or if it's a slow song, just watching me. I miss being able to look at you and sing to you and while I'm still singing to you in my mind on every show we play right now, it's different when you're there. I miss looking over at you and seeing your eyes sparkle as if you can't quite believe you're there, even though you've been in that situation more times than you or I can count. Well... maybe not, because I'm sure we could work it out if we both tried, but remember. More times than we can remember. Or... I can remember because you might be able... YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M JUST CONFUSING MYSELF WITH ALL THESE TANGENTS THAT I GO OFF ONTO. I MISS SEEING YOU AT SHOWS.

7. Mitchie Torres, I miss... your colors. Which might seem weird, but I think I've proved that I'm weird from the very existence of this email so nothing should surprise you now. I miss your colors in your clothes, the colors in your eyes, the colors in your hair, the colors in your face... because for some reason, they're just brighter in you than in anyone else. It's like... you know in CSI Miami how they all seem so much brighter and like someone's turned up the saturation on your TV screen? Or is that just me? But whatever, it's like someone's turned up the saturation in my mind, only... it's just affected you. And it's made you stand out and it's made you the first thing I see and it's made you... amazing. Of course, there are a million other things that make you amazing too, but that's just one of them.

8. I miss watching movies with you on your couch and curling up close. See, that one's an obvious one, why did I not think of that at the start? But yeah, I miss putting my arm around you and feeling you rest your head against my shoulder and holding you close and never ever wanting to let go. Especially if we're watching a scary movie like The Ring and I get scared (NO NOT OF THE CREEPY MURDERERS, I'M TOO MAN ENOUGH FOR THAT) that something might happen to you if I ever let you go and I just want to keep you safe forever and ever.

9. I MISS YOUR MOM. Wow, okay so that sounded REALLY weird but I swear, it'll make some sort of sense. Mkay, maybe not. BUT. I miss your mom and how she cooks the most amazing food in the world and how she still insists that I'm good enough for you, even though I'm blatantly not because you obviously need somebody sane who will not write you random emails like this one. I miss how I look at her and am reminded so much of you and how I know that because your mom is so amazing and you are so amazing then I am one lucky guy to have you. Because with the degrees of amazing going on in your family, you deserve, like... can you tell I don't really know what I'm saying anymore? Is that obvious?

10. I miss feeling my heart speed up whenever you're near me. Or whenever you're in the same room. Or... okay, fine I'll admit it. Whenever I even think about you it speeds up a little bit, but that's nowhere near like what it does when you're next to me. When you're smiling at me. When you're kissing me or hugging me. I swear, it's like it goes at 100 miles an hour which can't be good because cars are not allowed to go at that speed most of the time, so I can't imagine what it does to hearts.

11. I miss the guy that I feel like when I'm with you. I miss feeling like I'm a much better person when you're around. Because I know you already know this – HECK THE PAPERS REMIND US OF IT ENOUGH – but I changed when I met you. And so when you're not here it's like... I don't want to go back to the person that I was. And I know that I won't – not when I still have your faith – but when you're around it's like... I feel much more confident being this nice guy. Because I know that you believe in me and that it's because of you that I'm this much nicer guy and... I just. I miss how you make me, me. And okay, you still do that when you're not here because look, I'm me. But... oh, you know what I mean.

12. I miss... I miss telling you I love you and watching your face. It's so... real. Like, the first time I said it, you just looked at me like you couldn't quite believe it. Granted, it was after like, our third date, but that didn't matter to me. I did love you. I do love you. And you just looked so... stunned that I'd said something that real after... I can't do the math for how long we'd known each other. But I still love watching your reaction when I tell you the same three words. You're much better at handling it, I'll give you that. But sometimes... sometimes I still see you doubt it just a little. You're still stumped sometimes when I say I love you. And I love that about you. Don't ask me why, but I do. I miss it. I miss being able to watch your face and know that you love me back. Which you do, right? I hope you do. Otherwise this whole email will have been totally stupid. So you'd better.

AND OH GREAT, NATE AND JASON JUST CAME TO FIND ME BECAUSE I'VE APPARENTLY BEEN LOST FOR TWO HOURS. Wow, two hours? I spent two hours writing this thing? That is a lot for two hours work, seriously. You'll be out of English! And into... French. Huh. Not sure which is worse, personally.

But they're trying to read what I've written now, which as I said would ruin my reputation if it ever got out (and I'm kidding, you can sell it to Perez if you really must because I mean everything I've just written, as random and crazy and stupid and cheesy and cliché as it may be) and so I think I'd better stop typing. You've probably read enough anyway.

DAMN IT I FORGOT TO PUT IN LITTLE NOTES TO QUIZ YOU ON LATER. Oops. Oh well, if you took my threat seriously then you'll have read it all anyway and will just have wasted however long it took reading it all for nothing (well, not for nothing because it was all very heartfelt and poignant but still...). And if you didn't take my threat seriously... then I evidently need to work on sounding more threatening.

Anywayyyy...

I love you Mitchie. And I miss you like hell. I'll call you tonight, yes?

With love from every single piece of my rock star heart,

Shane

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P.S. I will be giving you each and every single one of those kisses when I next see you, comprende?

**Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya love me?**

**Don't wanna hear you say maybe**

**Won't you tell me do you love me?**

**Do you really love me?**

**Tell me do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya love me?**

**'Cause I wanna know**

**Reply To: **Shane Grey ()

**From: **Mitchie Torres ()

**Subject: **what exactly were you gonna do if my answer was no?

My crazy, weird, strange, dorky, nerdy but totally, totally adorable rock star/pop star boyfriend, Shane,

I did read it all. You're totally crazy. I can't believe that you wrote all of that down. And unfortunately, it took so long to read that I'm now totally late meeting Caitlyn at the mall. So... I'll reply properly later, I promise.

BUT I LOVE YOU TOO, OKAY? AND GET HOME FROM TOUR SOON. AND DON'T KILL JASON AND NATE. AND... DON'T LET THEM KILL YOU EITHER. AND BECAUSE IT WAS SO WEIRD IT CANNOT GO WITHOUT MENTIONING IN MY FIRST REPLY: YOU MISS MY MOM? THAT'S TOO STRANGE.

I'll talk to you later, Shane. I promise. And I miss you like hell on Earth.

With all crazy kinds of love,

Mitchie

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P.S. I'm counting on that. I'll give you all of mine too.

**Do ya love me 'cause I wanna know**

**Do ya love me 'cause I wanna know**


End file.
